In an era when everyone is talking about the enlarged size of goaltending equipment, we say goodbye to a goaltender who became a legend because his ego was enormous.

Say what you will about Patrick Roy's mechanics and the perfection of his butterfly style, but Patrick became king of his position because he wanted to be the best at his position. He succeeded because he never entertained the notion that he might fail. His is a story about attitude as much as aptitude.

Many athletes have made history in their sports, but Roy was among the few who understood and appreciate that history.

To appreciate Roy's mastery of his position, one must know that when he was chasing Terry Sawchuk's record, he read the biography of Sawchuk just so he could have a better understanding the psyche of the man he was chasing. He wanted to be in his head, just like he wants to be in the shooter's head.

All athletes love the trappings of their sport, but Roy is among the few who reveled in the minutiae. He devoured statistics. He read newspaper articles, and he watched film — making mental notes that he transformed into knowledge that might help him be the best he could be. This is a man with a hockey card collection — highlighted by valuable cards of players who were at their best 30 years before Roy was born.

His powers of observation rival those of a New York City detective. No scrap of information, no detail, was too insignificant for him to notice.

Former NHL player Peter McNab, now a television analyst, has told the story many times of picking out the most obscure event that happened in a hockey game and asking Roy about it after the game. Without fail Roy would recall the event and assess its impact on the game.

Teammates like Patrick Roy because he was willing to suck up pressure, as if were an elixir for success. When the Montreal Canadians won the Stanley Cup in 1993, and Roy won 10 overtime games, he told his teammates in a key game in the Finals that if they scored three goals they would win because he refused to give up more than two.

He made good on his promise. Roy always made good on his promise.

His butterfly style did revolutionize the game. There are bus loads of young goalies in Quebec who aspire to wear an NHL crest upon their chest because they have watched Roy be among the league's brightest starts. Glenn Hall played the butterfly, as did Tony Esposito but not with the same devotion as Roy. Working with Francois Allaire, Roy made himself seem almost invincible at times. Some goalies had a quick glove hands. Others could handle the puck. But Roy had an aura.

He made mistakes and endured some poor performances. What made him special was that an inferior effort in one game was usually followed with a superior performance in the next.

His swagger seemed to intimidate opponents. He was glib, cocky and his words often made him seem even more powerful. Words can't hurt you, but Roy's words always seem to bring home the point that he was going to beat you.

Those of us who have reported on his heroics will always remember the series against the Chicago Blackhawks when he said he couldn't hear Jeremy Roenick's trash talking because he had his Stanley Cup rings in his ears.

We can argue all day about whether Sawchuk, Jacques Plante or Roy is the best goalie of all time. It's thankless, perhaps silly, to compare eras, but in my opinion, Roy is No. 1 and Sawchuk is No. 2.

The difference between the two is that Roy was more consistent throughout his career. Sawchuk's dark side — including his troubled home life — may have prevented him from being all that he could be. Roy's ego would not allow him to be anything but the best. Roy is 37 and was still considered one of the top three goalies in the game at the time of his retirement. At the same age, Sawchuk wasn't at the same level of proficiency.

Maybe Sawchuk never thought about being the best goalie of all time. Roy did think about it. He thought about it often. Perhaps he was even driven by it. That's why he was so difficult to conquer.

If he isn't the greatest goalie of all time, he is clearly the most memorable athlete I have ever known and written about. When it comes to knowing how to win, he is the yardstick by which all others should be judged.